The Vagrant and the Performer
by EveningVII
Summary: Vince is a vagrant in the foreign land of Sinnoh. He meets a beautiful performer whilst lost in the forest near Snowpoint, and over time, grows to befriend her. This friendship sparks something in Vince to actually embrace his new home, and drives him to bring the performer across the land to show her beauty off, and to finally live well. (Currently T, may ramp up to M)
1. Chapter 1

**I'd like to say that I'm real sorry for the changes that I'll be making to this story. After having read the old version, I find it jarring and uncomfortable, and largely unsatisfying. Hence, I've gone and made revisions to it, and after having put more thought and effort to it, I only hope that it can be a more satisfying read for you too. **

* * *

"It's cold, it's cold..."

Within the thicket on the outskirts of Snowpoint, where great evergreens tower above, that was all that escaped my chattering teeth as I trudged through the unexpected blizzard. Living in Snowpoint, to not see any snow on any particular day would be cause for distress. It would mean some horrid drastic thing happened for the cold winds that eternally blow down snow from high up to cease. That day however, it was especially fierce. Forceful gales burned away at my face, and whipped my hood around forcing me to pull onto it to prevent them from being ripped off. The storm screamed in my ear, overpowering even the violent rusting of conifer pines. The worst of it however was how much precipitate just poured down onto my head. On an otherwise average day, these forests would be teeming with the indigenous ice-types, but on that day, even the native Piloswine would be hard pressed to set a foot out in this dreadful weather, making the forest have the atmosphere more akin to the barren wastes of Route 217.

And yet, with dinky camping lamp barely lighting my way in this obscuring tempest, I trudged through the snow, intent on finding a nice looking conifer to chop down to sell. It was nearing end of month and I accidentally blew my cash to fix my beloved accordion. So if all I had to do was brave a single storm, then I would gladly head into it. But with how bad vision was getting, I might just have no choice but to head back lest I end up a frozen mummy. Better hungry than dead.

"Another hundred steps in this crap before I head back." I said to no one in particular and began counting. 1,2,3... By step 31, I began to notice that the wind was dying down, and that the snow ahead wasn't piled as high. Thanking Jirachi for a wish granted, I pressed forward, chancing upon a clearing with just the perfect tree smack dab in the center. Smirk on my face, I eyed that beau of a tree and readied my axe. However, no sooner than I made my first step forward did a small figure appear from the tree line opposite to me. Afraid that it might be a hostile Pokemon, or worse, a ranger, I switched my lamp off and hid behind the nearest tree, peeking out ever so slightly to keep track of it. The shadow, visible only by the snowflakes stuck on its body reflecting trace amount of light, slowly made its way to the center tree, and stopped. All the snow and wind froze midair, then collected beneath the tree to burst upwards, turning the conifer's cone upside down. This blew a slit through the clouds above to let a sliver of moonlight through, giving the clearing a dim glow. Flakes blown off the tree left suspended in the air shimmered in the moonlight, making the dark clearing light up like the night sky.

Whilst I was distracted by the lightshow, the figure had moved to the tip of the pine, and it was only by luck that I caught sight of it plummeting into the fresh powder below. This kicked up a screen of flakes, from which it burst out of with tremendous speed, up into the air on a magical zephyr, leaving pixie dust as it went. It whooshed above my head and carried on in a cyclone, circling the clearing, closing in on the tip of the conifer with each lap round. When it reached the apex of its incline just above the tree, the figure balled itself up into a glittering jewel of ice, and burst into a firework. The clouds above which twisted downwards into the cyclone burst away to reveal the full moon, shining in all its glory. It illuminated the clearing, revealing what lay before me.

A pleasant dream of fairies floating on the breeze, wherever it may take them, joined by stars that jived and winked in the dark backdrop. All along with man in the moon smiling down upon it. The one responsible for all of it sat on the conifer's peak, smirking in satisfaction upon the scene it had made, and the one who did it all was, a Sneasel? Sure, it was most certainly an ice-type, what with the masterful manipulation of the element, but I figured it was a more graceful Pokemon. Example, a Froslass, famed, or perhaps notorious for their ice-sculptures and blizzards. Sneasel however were not at all known for the arts, not in the slightest. Travelers to Snowpoint were always warned to keep wary of roaming Sneasel. They were some of the most ferocious battlers, with razor sharp claws in perfect marriage with swift reflexes, they were the area's apex predators. Especially since they hunted in packs. There is many a good reason the Snowpoint gym is one of the last few on the circuit, and Sneasel were one of them. So to see one not simply alone, but putting on a stunning show, all for its own satisfaction? That's never been heard of.

While I was monologuing, the Sneasel, with her characteristic short feather, had already finished admiring her work, and was back on the ground. She spun around, grinning at the fluttering flakes, then held out her claws, as if daintily holding another. She closed her eyes, and begun to snarl out what might be a song. 1 2 3 4, 1 2 3 4, her footsteps made regular beats. 1 2 3 4, 1 2 3 4, she spun on her toes. It was a waltz, a solo waltz, and I came out into the clearing, hypnotised. 1 2 3 4, 1 2 3 4, I caught myself tapping along to the beat. 1 2 3 4, 1 2 3 4, my eyes followed her every sway, every swing. Finally, the waltz was coming to an end. Her snarls and growls were growing softer, as she made her final spin, stopping to bow to her non-existent audience. Still in a trance, I applauded.

Her ear feather pricked up, and she turned to face me. Slowly, methodically, robotically, she turned, eyes wide in fright and tears welling up. She bit her bottom lip, likely to keep her self from screaming. This was a major fuck up on my side.

"Look, Ms Sneasel, I realise this is quite the compromising situation we have found ourselves in, but would you mind," before I could end my sentence, there was already a deep gash just above my head in the tree trunk.

"Would you keep your coll perchance?" I croaked it out, hoping to appeal to her reason, or at least confuse her for long enough to get away, but she was not taking none of it. Her eyes focused on me, laser precise, and it stopped me in my tracks. I was sure it wasn't "Scary Face" being used, heard from one of them breeder types on the telly that Sneasel can't learn it, but that look sure was super effective. She pointed her dagger-like claw my way then hissed at me something in her language. My suspicions of what she uttered was confirmed when she made a slashing motion across her own neck with that claw that glistened under the moonlight. She crouched down into a pouncing position, eyes kept firmly on me, and leapt, screaming out her warrior cry. That surely broke me from my stupor, and I ducked in time for her to sail past me into the tree. It was high time for me to high tail outta here, and I narrowly escaped a vicious slash.

As I pumped my legs through the snow, the great snarl from that itty-bitty Sneasel behind me was surreal. The scene that unfolded would have been a right sight for any lucky onlookers, because it was that snarl that sent me sprawling to the ground for cover, and to crawl through the snow in a desperate bid to put as much distance between me and that scorned beast. She was relentless, letting lose what might be her whole repertoire of moves. Ice shards flew all around me, sticking into the trees I've been using for cover. The wind picked up and obscured my vision with powder. I even saw a dark pulse or two come close. Where I was running to, I didn't really know, so thank fuck that there were some lights in the direction I was going, and I made haste towards safe haven.

Just as I was leaving the forest, she decided to send me a final parting gift, an ice shard that cut my left arm some. I swiftly hid behind the sturdy marble pillar of the temple when the Sneasel began snarling and growling all sorts of what I believe to be profanities, then vanished back into the night. My arm was cut with surgical precision. The slash was a thin line, but the blood that flowed through was quite a bit, and it stung like hell. Damned Sneasel really lived up to their reputations, yet, now sitting in relative calm, I reflected back at how she seemed to hold back, more like she was trying to chase me away than harm me. Even this cut seemed more like a calculated warning than poor aim. Sure she was ferocious, but I was sure if she truly desired for it, I would have been naught but ribbons. Her performance was testament to that. Most of all was the performance, wild Sneasel don't waltz, Gardevoir do, Froslass could, any of the stereotypical pretty Pokemon would, but not Sneasel.

"Curious. Utterly curious. Never going back though." Just because she had been merciful did not mean that I ought to indulge in my curiousity. I was not going to test her limits.

"Who goes there?"

A light shone out, and turned towards me, effectively blinding me. I squint and hiss in response, raising my hands up to block some light.

"Vince? That you again? I've told you over and over again, ever since you arrived, this is not a public... What happened to you?" Temple guard Em shrieked.

"You happen to have bandages Em?" I raise my bleeding arm to her.

"Right! Yes!" Em went scampering to get the stuff and came back. I reach out for the cotton wool, but she smacks my hand away and begins patching up my wound.

"So, what happened?" She asked while cleaning the wound.

"Sneasel." I replied simply.

She nodded in empathy. It was commonsense. She applied a prodigious amount of antiseptic, making the cut burn. She caught onto my arm with her talons, and asked again, not in a friendly manner mind you. "And what was it that made you meet this Sneasel?"

She was grinning all Meowth-like, and I was definitely not going to risk lying to her. That said, I upturned my lips a tad, closed in my shoulders to appear smaller, and looked up to her a tad, hopefully cushioning the impact my words would have.

"I wanted a nice tree?"

She replied by tightening the bandage a tiny bit too tight.

"Aaggh! Good Lord I can't feel my blood flowing!"

"You should know that the forest is hands off! Nature sanctuary! You were caught and warned the last time! Do you want to go to prison? Do I need to get Candice on your case?"

That shut me up. I stilled my mouth and just shook my head vehemently.

"Good. Seeing as you don't have a tree, or your axe, I'm going to let you off, this last time. Next time however, that. Is. It. Capisce?"

I nod, agreeing one hundred percent with her. Straight-laced Em is horrifying, learned that my first day landing on the shores of Snowpoint. Suppose that's what made her a good temple guardian.

She let me go, after properly bandaging me, and I headed back to the dock worker dorms. As I lay in my cot, staring up at the peeling ceiling, I began to scheme. I needed that axe back. I'd forgotten it so conveniently up till Em reminded me of my lack of it. Sure, my tree chopping days are definitely over, what with Em's patience for my misdemeanours likely dried up, but that axe wasn't mine, I still needed to get it back. But not just that, I was still enraptured by that Sneasel. That little ball of teeth and claws. Sure she was a terror, but she was also one of the most skilled ice-type I'd ever seen, playing with the element with more control than even the gym trainer's Pokemon. She was an exhilarating watch, more so than Candice's battles. And most of all, I thought she was quite reasonable. While I certainly never wanted to meet her ever again, on the off chance I do, I'd be ready. With her in my head, I fell asleep, dreaming dreams of glittering snowfall.


	2. Chapter 2

I stared. I stare deeply into it. Its tiny perforations,its redness, its dark flesh. Should I cut it in half, save some for later? Or should I go all in now? I stare at it, seeking for an answer, but from it comes naught. All it could do, as I held it in my clammy grasp was stare back at me, wordlessly, as if asking me in a Socratic fashion, "What do you think?" Indeed, what do I think?

"I think you should just shove it in your mouth!" Roared out from behind, a heavy hand landing on the small of my back. It caused me to jump and my only meal for the day slipped out of my hand, that magnificent BLT, straight into the icy depths below, only to bob back up for a second before being snatched up by a Buizel that lived nearby. It waved my sandwich at me, smiling cheek to cheek, then dipped back down. There was my answer of what I thought, nihil. Not in my belly, not in my hand. Certainly not for later. "Uhh... Sorry 'bout the sandwich there Vince. I'll get you a new one?"

I turned round to the culprit of my loss. A great, burly, stumbling fella sporting a lumberjack beard, with the plaid to match. Jim's face wretched in turmoil for having caused such an unfortunate accident. I put a hand on his large arm, and he ceased his stammering, and answered, "Yes please." He guffawed, holding his belly tightly, then smacking me hard in the back again.

"Oh that's a good one!" I look at him, giving him the stink eye, but he paid no mind.

"At any rate, what's up? Not many people stare at food as wistfully as you did. Something eating you up?"

As I raised a finger, about to explain the titillating world of cost-benefit analysis, where I was measuring my marginal costs and benefits of eating it now compared to saving some for later, as well as of BLT Socrates, Jim began shaking his arms up and down like a little schoolgirl who got her hands on the juiciest of scoops. He even squealed at a pitch so high that I wasn't even aware a man of his stature could make. He seemed to have made his own conclusion, and so, I shut my mouth up, finger shriveling back down. The persistent scowl on my face morphing into a deeper frown. I was not going to like the tangent that he was about to go on.

"You fell in love with a girl haven't you! Who is it? Who is it?"

I opened my mouth for a split, but closed it back down when I saw he wasn't done. Jim was still going on about possible matches, so, I decided to zone him out for a bit, and think about better things. Like what sandwich I'll get him to buy me. It won't be too expensive, after all, he is about as poor as me. It will be more filling though. Yes, sandwich. I checked back on him to see if he was done yet, but right now, he was just listing off girls. Em? Nah, she scared me. Candice? I only knew she was the local gym leader. Old flame from back home? I flinched hard at that, enough to call attention from Jim.

"I'm. So. Sorry. Ididn'tmeananythingfromthat I'msosorry!"

"Nah mate. It's just the mention of home. I haven't got a girl back home." I soften my frown and tried to pat him reassuringly. Yeah, I miss home a lot, but I'm here.

"But you were thinking of a girl just now weren't you?" I roll my eyes at him and carried on, back to the deli. I'm not ready to date right now. I haven't even got food on my plate, so to date would be frivolous. There also aren't any ladies around that I would consider seriously. None that has caught my eye. Made me swoon and sigh. That was when my imaginations drifted to a little fluff ball of death. Her performance took my breath away, and while her song was not traditionally beautiful, I did catch myself giggle and hum together with it last night. I chuckled underneath my breath, which gained a puppy-eyed look from Jim. I remarked back to him, "Oh chuff off."

"I've struck a nerve there haven't I!" He guffawed, hanging his lumbering arms upon my shoulders. "Fine, fine, I'll lay off. At any rate, have you seen my axe? It isn't underneath my bed anymore."

To this, my calf tensed up. I had to quickly school my expression and keep moving at a steady pace. Any sign of hesitance or surprise could incriminate me. Not that I've done anything criminal. Just loaning a personal effect without permission is all. Was going to hand it back straight away too. "No sir, n-not at all. I'm s-sure you get it right? Once you've stopped looking for it, bloody thing will just magic itself up out of nowhere!"

He looked over to me with appraising eyes. I grin toothily, attempting to get him off my back. I can't have done anything to throw him a bone. My face was natural, voice was spirit leveled, I wasn't touching my face or nothing! After looking me over a bit, he shifted his attention back onto the road, and reverted to his carefree self, saying, "I guess. Just tell me if it turns up alright?"

I nodded, sighing internally. Luckily, Jim was as trusting as they come. I need to get that axe no matter what by sunrise. I owe it to him really. Also, I would not want to see how angry Jim could get.

* * *

Finding my way back was simple. There was not a cloud in the sky and the full moon was out, its majesty illuminating the forest. I didn't even need the dumb lantern. The snow was falling steadily, but not heavily. The carnage left over from yesterday's chase certainly helped some too. It took no time at all before I saw her, pristine as the day I left her. The conifer that I could never have, and with that, the money that won't ever land into my grubby hands. The axe was right there, laying on the gnarled root. It gleamed in the moonlight, seducing me closer. It spoke to me in a the tone of a musical saw, "I can't chop trees by myself!" Its right, it can't, and that pine over there really looks right for the chopping.

I picked up Jim's axe, turning it over in my hands, feeling its heft and weight, just right for chopping that tree in the middle. I eye it up, stalking my prey, inching closer to it, raising the axe slowly till it was above my head. I was halfway to the tree, anticipating the sound of metal on wood, when I heard the distinct cry of a Sneasel. It sent me into a flurry straight back into the forest, away from open ground. I peered over, checking to see if that Sneasel had come back to finish the job, but instead, I was treated to the sight of a small group of 3 Sneasels, two female and a male, running for the cover as the snow was struck with great force, covering the group in a heavy blanket. A cold wind blew through, bringing with it shimmering flakes that obscured my vision, and likely theirs. Then, a small shadow sauntered from within the snow cover, and I could immediately tell. Those Sneasel weren't running from a Froslass, but an extremely theatric Sneasel. She waltzed out from the cover to show her terribly peeved face. The male in the group blew off the blanket from them, and snarled at my Sneasel, which for conveniences sake, will now be named Angry McGrumpface. Angry McGrumpface did not take his shit, and punched him straight in the nozzle. Not even a move or anything, just unceremoniously plonked him. The two females raised a claw against McGrumpface, to which she rolled forwards and made them fly with an icy wind. The male, once finding himself alone, scurried towards where the two females had flown off to, snarling all sorts at McGrumpface, what I can imagine to be insults to her ancestry. Angry simply glared at him, the same way she glared at me, sending him running.

I realised how her talents in the arts lent themselves to her battle prowess, or perhaps it was the other way round. In other words, Angry was a terror, and a terror that I would rather not encounter for the second night in a row. I backtracked slowly, trying to be as silent as an assassin, when I heard a tiny sniffle. I came back the edge of the clearing to take a peek at Angry, and there, underneath that tree, she was she was sniffling, wiping furiously at her eyes. Her scowl that drew shivers from me, was turned to a frown that squished my stomach, twisting a knife in it, which sincerely pissed me off. She was meant to be an unholy slayer of all things, not an actual being with feelings and complexity. I had to make it stop, and I only knew one way. I put down the axe, and with grim face, I stepped out into the clearing, standing tall.

There was an old lullaby my mother used to sing to me, back home, and it was one she sang whenever I cried. It made me stop all the time, because she always ended up crying when she sung it, and I hated seeing her do that. She was a woman of unadulterated rage at times, and definitely wore the pants in my family, so I hated to see her cry. Out there, with only me and the Sneasel, I sang that song.

The Sneasel ceased her sniffling, turning around to face me, eyes wide with shock. He wide, expressive peepers, still glistening from the tears, and a tad red, stopped to stare at what was likely the most terrible thing she lay her eyes on. A dirty vagrant with a nigh unbearable voice. It got her to stop crying though, and that was enough for me. I cleared my throat, and made my way back to the axe, having enough of this self-inflicted embarrassment.

"Grraaogh..." She moaned. Her claw caught onto my pants. I faced her, about to growl at her back, to lay off and scram, but I lost heart to do it when her waterworks started up again.

"Grraaogh..." She moaned again, tugging listlessly at my leg. I had no choice but to continue the lullaby, all the way till she fell asleep. I was certain she would not cry any longer from here on out, and thus, picked her up and left her under the tree. I headed back, forcing myself to not look back.


	3. Chapter 3

The harsh light of the fluorescent lamp penetrated my sleep, and I had no choice but to open my eyes. Above was that same repugnant ceiling. It greeted me with its peeling, yellowing paint. Little specks drifting down, slight yet constant. There were some large sheets hanging by their nads, revealing the concrete beneath, smooth, gray, but moulding. What would have been a beautiful industrial look was marred by time and a lack of care. Worst of all was the dark smudge of what looks to be splashed soda pop, rotted, blackened. I keep my eyes on the smudge, watching intently, seeing it morph away into something else. The bit of white specks enlarge into sharp, long claws, held up against a little mouth, being sucked on. A little red feather pricked up, and twitched with the breeze. The smudgy, peeling texture became fluffy fur, warm in contrast to the snow below. Eyelids fluttered, then stopped, no longer scrunched up in a sorrow I could not fathom, but restful, soft.

"Hey! Sally! She's come home to me!"

Jim's booming voice broke me from my particularly weird reverie. She was not cute as hell, and I am not obsessing over damned Angry. That's a fact.

I turned over, away from the smudge, to face good old Jim. "Told you your axe will come back if you just waited a tad."

"Nah man. Its gotta be like SOME...ONE... got it for me. Hmm?" Jim looked away from his axe that he was kissing, to smirk at me. He was acting coquettish, hand on hip, trying to force his surly body into that S shape. It was an attempt to pull a rise out of me, I knew it, and it certainly did. The act was annoying, but he could not know that I was the culprit, not at all.

"Hahaha... Yea, kinda like some lost and found Santa Clause eh?"

Jim gave a dispirited look. I did not give him the expected reaction, and he wanted to ask what was up. Only a month and the man was an open book to me. He scrunched his eyebrows together and stroked his beard wistfully. As he was about to open his mouth, I took the opportunity to interject.

"Anyways, today's the day my accordion comes back from the repair shop. Gotta be excited 'bout that huh?"

Predictable Jim made fake retching sounds, covering his ears tightly and screaming something or another about his ears bleeding. The accordion was one of the most hated instruments in the world, right next to Galar's bagpipe, another instrument I am quite fond of, and Jim hated it with a passion. Not even sure why. I was one of the best players I know after all. However, it did shift the balance of the conversation back over to me, allowing me to run away from his interrogations. I just cackle at his theatrics, and scooted over to the dinky toilet, getting ready for another day of work at the docks. Today was going to be good, because I'm gonna live forever.

* * *

The sky turned a soft pink with orange streaks breaking out. The snow was was falling as it always had, but atop that iconic red roof, it melted away to slush, making sure that any trainer can recognise it with just a glance. The Pokecenter was the busiest part of Snowpoint, what with trainers coming almost everyday to sleep, eat, and care for their Pokemon. With high foot traffic, it was ideal for what I planned to do.

I opened my accordion case, and there it gleamed in the artificial lights coming from the Pokecenter. The dark wood that formed the body of my 12 bass accordion was lacquered to a sheen, giving it that smooth warm feel in the hand. My old buttons were replaced from the peeling plastic to ivory white, from a dead coral I had found on my way here. The sounds the button makes when pressed, the soft clicks that I feel for when playing, that gives some percussive rhythm to my pieces, at least for myself, felt just right. The bellows were no longer old and yellowing, instead replaced by a simple matte black, ensuring that air can blow through my reeds to make symphonic harmony. On the back of the right-hand side, the engraving, 'Lupa', remained. My mother's accordion stayed with me from childhood, and it was likely one of the first things I heard in my life.

I put on the straps and a small crowd of bright-eyed trainers begin to gather around. In these parts of the world, the accordion was a rare sight. Generally, from what I've seen, guitar players were a dime a dozen. That makes me a bit like ice in the desert. Not terribly valuable elsewhere, but here, I am in the right place. I pull the accordion gently, hearing it take a breath full of that clean blue air, and squeeze. The sound that arose from the accordion was crisp. I was ready.

I squatted down, and stretched my legs a little, and begun to play the base, setting the rhythm and the tone. It started soft and slow, then rose in speed and loudness. I am sure these have their fancy names, but my mother was a self-taught player, and she taught me. At this point, I had even attracted the local wild Pokemon with my foreign sounds. There were Swinub, Buizel, Pelipper, and even from the forest nearby, the larger Piloswine and the shy Snorunt appeared. I had attracted quite the crowd, both people and Pokemon, here to see what this stranger had to say, and with that much anticipation, I will not let them down.

More than just music, it needed action. As the music rose in its speed, so did my body. I was like a Buizel, popping up and around the sea of people, above them, behind them, and twisting and spinning. Instigating some of the trainers to try and keep up, dance with me. It got the crowd going, most of them no longer really paying attention to me but dancing with each other to my tunes. Blast that Jim and his hate of the accordion, for he has no taste. My audience is the source on that. But as all good things must end, so must my performance. I hadn't eaten today either, and my lethargy was returning. As much as I wanted to continue this, I could not. I wound down the rhythm, from a rushing blizzard to a calm breeze, I gave my audience some time to relax together with me. Then, with a long note, it was over. The trainers and Pokemon cheered. I bowed and held out my accordion case, and the sound of paper ruffling was true music to my ears. Some Pokemon even came up to me with their assorted berries which was much obliged.

Today was a much better turnout than most. Enough to live for 2 weeks it looks like. That said, this crowd is only due to Candice holding a special class for ice-type trainers around the area. With this place being the second last stop on the circuit, most gym challengers never reach here. And with the harsh environment of Snowpoint, there are essentially no tourists.

"Man, I need to move from here, but with no Pokemon, I'd be eaten for sure."

I sigh, letting my breath vapour form a bit of mist into the forest. I follow it, letting myself be entertained by its swirls for a tad, when I catch a glimpse of her. Her eyes glowed in the dark shade of the forest. It was bright like the moon, and particularly wide. She breathed, slowly, steadily. I could see from the vapours, and so did I. We were stuck in the gaze of the other, not one move, not one utterance. Why had she come here? Was it for me? Was she pissed off about something? Is this how it all ends?

She took a step forward, I took a step back. Another forward, another back. I was backed up against the wall, and she was coming into the light. No one would save me now, because they had all gone inside. It was late, it was cold, and I was alone. I sank down onto my ass, just giving in. No screams for help from me, it seemed like I had just accepted my fate. I raise my head, showing my neck. Making it easier for her, and hopefully, less painful for me. I scrunched my eyes up, and awaited cold bone on flesh.

"Grraogh." A claw pulled softly on my pants. I open my eyes, carefully, to see her. Angry. She wasn't scowling, glaring, or even growling. Just frowning a bit and pointing to my accordion.

"Snnraaogh." She pointed at the accordion a bit more vigorously.

"You wanna listen some more?"

"Gragh!" She exclaimed, large eyes all lit up and smiling.

"Well, alright." I pick up my accordion and start up a little ditty. Angry, if I can even call her that at this stage, clapped her little paws and bounced about. Little feather bobbing up and down with her little body. It felt good, having her not kill me. It felt better that she loved what I did. Sure, the audience did too, but I was coaxing money from their wallets. With her, it felt like I was coaxing out her warmth. It felt more like home, when Mum used to play this accordion in the village festival. Little bobbing heads and shifting feet, just like this one... My world went to darkness, and the last thing I heard was a squeal of terror.

* * *

"Vince, hey, are you alright?"

I wake up to bright fluorescent light once more. This time however, I was met by a clean white ceiling. I look over to my bedside to see the nurse.

"Oh, good, you're up."

"What, how, umm... yes, what?"

"You were out cold at the entrance. I only just realised when I heard a commotion outside. This Sneasel was frantically calling, trying to stuff a Chesto berry down your mouth."

She pointed out Angry sleeping next to me.

"She wouldn't leave. Didn't know you had Pokemon of your own." The nurse giggled airily.

"No, she isn't mine." My gaze kept firmly on Angry as she makes all sorts of adorable little grumbles and chirps in her sleep. I should probably thank her when she wakes.

"Wait, did you do anything to me when I was out?"

"How rude. I'm a lady you know." She pouts.

"Nonononono. Anything I have to pay for?"

"Oh! Well, there's an IV drip, because you didn't have enough to eat, and the stay. But don't you worry about that. Just rest up first alright? Get your strength back."

"Nonono. I'm fine already see? Fit as a fiddle." I exclaim making my way out of the bed.

The nurse snapped. "You. Will. Not. Leave."

She glares at me, raising a finger at me. I've seen how she manhandles some other patients, and I would not want to on the receiving end of that kind of violence. It would make me have to stay here longer. So I opted to be smart and returned into my sheets. Her amicable demeanour returned as quickly as it had left.

"Good. Now, if there's anything you need, just press the call button there alright?"

I simply nod and deflate into the bed. It may have been softer than my cot, but it felt uncomfortable, stinging. I shift my attention to Angry, who was still sound asleep. Was she so confident that nothing here could hurt her, and hence why she remains in dreamland, I could imagine that. She shifted a little in her sleep to cling onto my arm, and mumbled a little something something. Her soft fur, and the little grin calmed me down some. I decided I might as well enjoy this tiny luxury and think about what I should do tomorrow. And so, I close my eyes, falling asleep to the little mumbles of the Sneasel clinging to me.


End file.
